I'm not sure it's important but I do talk about finding my boyfriend dead... so, trigger warning I guess.
I don't even know where to start.... my life is a soap opera and I just want to be done.
My boyfriend died a month ago. He died due to respiratory arrest or blood clots due to COVID. I had asked him for weeks to go to the doctor because he was having difficulties breathing and he wouldn't go. The night he died, he was drinking a lot. He wasn't mean when he drunk, he was actually really emotional but I didn't like being around it. So when I heard a loud gage and went upstairs to see that he peed all over himself, I was furious. I was thinking "you're so drunk that you can't even get up to pee" and I went downstairs and slept on the couch. I heard him snoring at 1 am. At 2 am, I heard a loud crash. I went upstairs to check on him by peaking under the door, it looked like he was just throwing up in the toilet so... I went back downstairs. Our house creaks, any movement you can hear it and I didn't hear him move for an hour. So at 3 am, I went back upstairs, peaked under the door and he hadn't moved. So I opened the door and he had fallen, he had fallen between the wall and the toilet. I went to move him and he was... not cold but not warm. I tried to check for a pulse but my heart was racing so I ran downstairs and I called 911. The operated kept telling me I had to get him unstuck from the wall and I couldn't. I pulled on his arm and I heard his wrist pop. I tried pulling on his legs and he wouldn't budge. He was 5'11 and about 300 lbs, I couldn't move him. I even wrapped my arms around his middle and pulled and that's when he felt cold, and I noticed he had defecated on himself... which sent me screaming. The operator was trying to talk to me and I ended up yelling "I can't, I can't move him. You have to give me something else to do!" so she told me to make sure his mouth was clear. So I'm kneeling over him, shoving my hand in his cold mouth and pulling out only saliva. His face was so pink. And his eyes were so glassy. I just remember tossing my phone so I could put his face in both my heads and yelling "baby please, please baby please" and that's when I heard the sirens.
The officer who got there first came upstairs and I was sobbing, but he didn't do anything. He got my boyfriend out from the wall and turned his head, lifted his arm and said "lividity has already set in" and I was just screaming "he's not dead, you're not telling me he's dead". The officer caught me before I fell and drug me downstairs. The rest of the night was just being interviewed by another officer, the coroner and a detective. I probably had over 10 people in our home, digging through everything, tearing apart everything. They even pulled apart our washer/dryer and water heater (my landlord and friend said they were probably looking for a gas leak).
He wasn't close to his family and by that I mean, he didn't like them and didn't want them around. We were together for years and I met them for the first time on Thanksgiving last year because he told me he was protecting me from them. I, stupidly, invited them into our home after he died. I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought they would want to be where he lived and sat where he sat.
They didn't.
They walked around our home looking at everything and talked about bringing a truck over. This was the AFTERNOON after he died. Same day, just like 12 hours later. My sister, who I had woken up at 4 am and drove all through the morning to get to me, asked them to leave. The next day, they asked to come over to "look for documents" so I let them in. They literally went through our whole home, opening doors and drawers... they didn't take anything. But they were talking about bringing a truck over and packing up the house again. My mom, who by then arrived from out of state, told them that it was too soon to be talking about moving items. They wouldn't stop so mom asked them to leave. That was the last time they were in our home. I have refused to allow them in again.
His family told me I could have some ashes. I had multiple conversations with his sister where she said I could have some, we discussed me getting an urn, she gave me her opinions on the ones I had picked up and talked about picking him up from the funeral home, etc. I was out of state when he was released (mom took me back to her house to give me some distance - I just stared at a wall, not speaking or eating the whole time). His sister told me that she picked up theirs and my urn... and I could have my urn once they can pack up the entire house. I told them that simply wasn't an option for the coming weekend because I 1) wasn't even there 2) haven't even been home since everything happened. She proceeded to tell me that I wasn't getting the ashes until they could come get whatever they wanted.
My doctor put me on anxiety meds and sleeping meds because of all of this. The anxiety meds help with panic attacks. The sleeping meds kinda just knock me out, it's not real sleep... it feels different. I also go see a counselor who has, seriously, been super helpful. I really love seeing him... his front office person is difficult to work with, though. She doesn't answer the phone and constantly changes what times are available. It's exhausting trying to see my super helpful counselor (I've since requested the same time every week so I don't really have to deal with the office lady, that's helped).
2 weeks after my boyfriend's death, I'm back home and my dad is staying with me to, basically, make sure I don't kill myself. THEN when you think my life couldn't get any worse. I come home from work (a job I had just started a week prior to my boyfriend's death - they've been exceptionally kind to me, though), and my dad is purple. His lips look like someone punched him but it just wasn't swelling. He's huge into conspiracies' and COVID is the ultimate conspiracy right now. I told him he was purple and needed to go to the hospital and he refused. I told him I was going to get an 02 reader and if his oxygen is too low, he's going. His oxygen was 70. He has never yelled at me ever... but he yelled at me about how he was not going to the hospital, if he goes they're going to kill him. I ended up yelling right back "well you're not staying here to die! So you either get in the f***ing car or I'm calling 911. I'm not going to find your dead body too". I'm driving him to the hospital and he's ranting and raving at me and I'm just sobbing. We're in the ER until midnight because they're going to admit him because he has pneumonia COVID but they don't have a room available, and he's just going on and on about how I've brought him there to die and they're going to kill him. I'm just sobbing, I don't have my anxiety meds and I end up screaming at him in front of the entire ER that he needed to shut up and I brought him there because I cared. Then I sat down and cried until he was put in a room and the hospital sent me home.
It's been 2 weeks since he's been in the hospital. And he's been mean to me every single day. He texts me telling me I need to bring him this or that, that the nurses are mean to him, that the doctor is trying to kill him. I either don't respond or I just text him that I love him. In my state, we can visit those who are in the hospital due to COVID but we have to wear these huge suits. So all day long I get these demanding texts and after work, I go visit him and all through the visits he's so mean. He's mean to me, mean to the nurses. At one point he even said that he only got sick because he was worrying about me and he wouldn't have gotten sick if he hadn't stayed in my house. I just kept my mouth shut every time and when visiting hours are over, usually cry in my car until I can calm down enough to drive home. Mom told me to stop visiting him, that if he can't be nice then don't go. But I told her I would feel so guilty if I didn't visit him and he died. So I have gone every day. I started ignoring his demanding texts so when I show up without whatever he's asking for (usually it's like medication that the nurses already said he couldn't have but he yelled at me to "sneak in" and I told him no), I just shrug and sit down.
In the meantime (yea, you thought this was almost over huh?), my boyfriend's family kept harassing me about packing up our home so my mom told them that if they want something, they need to either grant me some time like a decent person or they can get a lawyer. They got a lawyer. Now, this isn't scary for me because both of my parents are lawyers too so... to me, lawyers are just more reasonable people to talk to but they do have an angle and you have to word everything carefully - idk, something you learn growing up the child of lawyers. Their lawyer is actually really nice. When he first contacted mom (because I won't deal with his family, it just leaves me in panic attacks every time), his impression was I was this evil girlfriend who was keeping a heartbroken family from grieving their son. My mom set him straight real quick. After they talked and mom told him what's been happening, he does this lawyer talk where he can't agree with us that his clients are awful people... but he's agreeing with us. Like phrasing everything like "my clients asks..." or "my client says..." which is lawyer speak for "I don't agree with it but I have to do what my clients want...".
Anyways, mom and the lawyer worked out a deal. The family would give me my urn and my ashes in exchange for his car and family furniture that was given to him several years ago. They came on Saturday to get the stuff... didn't bring me the ashes. After they left (I stayed upstairs. The night before we put the furniture in the garage and my brother watched them retrieve the items from there), the attorney was still there so I went and asked him about the ashes. Even he said he thought they would be bringing them and he doesn't know why they didn't.
That night I rigged up a rope and tested it out until I got dizzy... but I didn't go through with it because it would probably be my brother who would find me once I stop responding to messages. That's not fair, I couldn't let him find me. I left up the rope, it's still there.
Needless to say, my emotional reserves are completely shot. I went to visit my dad today and all he's talking about is how I need to take all his dirty clothes home and wash them and the detergent in the wash room is what he bought and he needs new clothes and... I just snapped. He was in the middle of complaining about laundry detergent and I just got up and walked out. He texted me asking where I was going and I basically told him that I've had it with him complaining and being mean and that he should just be thankful to be alive but evidently he's not and he just wants to continue to complain and I've had it. I ended it with "leave me alone. Until you can act better, just leave me alone" and I turned off my phone.
So here I sit, on the floor of my bathroom, the same spot where my boyfriend died. My emotions are shot. I'm exhausted. I'm tired of trying to hold everything together and obviously I can't. I don't think I should have to. The love of my life is gone, I will never get him back. I can't even have a little bit of his ashes.... and I didn't even want him cremated, I wanted him buried but I'm "just" a girlfriend and had no say. My future is gone. And everyone tells me it gets better with time and I'm doing everything I'm supposed to do but... you know what, I don't want to. I don't want to get better, I don't want to move on, I don't want to continue doing what I'm supposed to do. I want to be done. I want to sleep and never wake up. I want to be with my boyfriend. He was the greatest man in the whole world and was so kind and loving. We were perfect together, I didn't even know two people could meld so perfectly together. I can't do this without him. I don't want to do anything without him. And now I'm resentful, I'm resentful that my dad is being so mean but he gets to be alive but my boyfriend who was sick with the same thing died. It's not fair.
I just want to go put that rope around my neck and join him. I'm done.
I don't even know where to start.... my life is a soap opera and I just want to be done.
My boyfriend died a month ago. He died due to respiratory arrest or blood clots due to COVID. I had asked him for weeks to go to the doctor because he was having difficulties breathing and he wouldn't go. The night he died, he was drinking a lot. He wasn't mean when he drunk, he was actually really emotional but I didn't like being around it. So when I heard a loud gage and went upstairs to see that he peed all over himself, I was furious. I was thinking "you're so drunk that you can't even get up to pee" and I went downstairs and slept on the couch. I heard him snoring at 1 am. At 2 am, I heard a loud crash. I went upstairs to check on him by peaking under the door, it looked like he was just throwing up in the toilet so... I went back downstairs. Our house creaks, any movement you can hear it and I didn't hear him move for an hour. So at 3 am, I went back upstairs, peaked under the door and he hadn't moved. So I opened the door and he had fallen, he had fallen between the wall and the toilet. I went to move him and he was... not cold but not warm. I tried to check for a pulse but my heart was racing so I ran downstairs and I called 911. The operated kept telling me I had to get him unstuck from the wall and I couldn't. I pulled on his arm and I heard his wrist pop. I tried pulling on his legs and he wouldn't budge. He was 5'11 and about 300 lbs, I couldn't move him. I even wrapped my arms around his middle and pulled and that's when he felt cold, and I noticed he had defecated on himself... which sent me screaming. The operator was trying to talk to me and I ended up yelling "I can't, I can't move him. You have to give me something else to do!" so she told me to make sure his mouth was clear. So I'm kneeling over him, shoving my hand in his cold mouth and pulling out only saliva. His face was so pink. And his eyes were so glassy. I just remember tossing my phone so I could put his face in both my heads and yelling "baby please, please baby please" and that's when I heard the sirens.
The officer who got there first came upstairs and I was sobbing, but he didn't do anything. He got my boyfriend out from the wall and turned his head, lifted his arm and said "lividity has already set in" and I was just screaming "he's not dead, you're not telling me he's dead". The officer caught me before I fell and drug me downstairs. The rest of the night was just being interviewed by another officer, the coroner and a detective. I probably had over 10 people in our home, digging through everything, tearing apart everything. They even pulled apart our washer/dryer and water heater (my landlord and friend said they were probably looking for a gas leak).
He wasn't close to his family and by that I mean, he didn't like them and didn't want them around. We were together for years and I met them for the first time on Thanksgiving last year because he told me he was protecting me from them. I, stupidly, invited them into our home after he died. I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought they would want to be where he lived and sat where he sat.
They didn't.
They walked around our home looking at everything and talked about bringing a truck over. This was the AFTERNOON after he died. Same day, just like 12 hours later. My sister, who I had woken up at 4 am and drove all through the morning to get to me, asked them to leave. The next day, they asked to come over to "look for documents" so I let them in. They literally went through our whole home, opening doors and drawers... they didn't take anything. But they were talking about bringing a truck over and packing up the house again. My mom, who by then arrived from out of state, told them that it was too soon to be talking about moving items. They wouldn't stop so mom asked them to leave. That was the last time they were in our home. I have refused to allow them in again.
His family told me I could have some ashes. I had multiple conversations with his sister where she said I could have some, we discussed me getting an urn, she gave me her opinions on the ones I had picked up and talked about picking him up from the funeral home, etc. I was out of state when he was released (mom took me back to her house to give me some distance - I just stared at a wall, not speaking or eating the whole time). His sister told me that she picked up theirs and my urn... and I could have my urn once they can pack up the entire house. I told them that simply wasn't an option for the coming weekend because I 1) wasn't even there 2) haven't even been home since everything happened. She proceeded to tell me that I wasn't getting the ashes until they could come get whatever they wanted.
My doctor put me on anxiety meds and sleeping meds because of all of this. The anxiety meds help with panic attacks. The sleeping meds kinda just knock me out, it's not real sleep... it feels different. I also go see a counselor who has, seriously, been super helpful. I really love seeing him... his front office person is difficult to work with, though. She doesn't answer the phone and constantly changes what times are available. It's exhausting trying to see my super helpful counselor (I've since requested the same time every week so I don't really have to deal with the office lady, that's helped).
2 weeks after my boyfriend's death, I'm back home and my dad is staying with me to, basically, make sure I don't kill myself. THEN when you think my life couldn't get any worse. I come home from work (a job I had just started a week prior to my boyfriend's death - they've been exceptionally kind to me, though), and my dad is purple. His lips look like someone punched him but it just wasn't swelling. He's huge into conspiracies' and COVID is the ultimate conspiracy right now. I told him he was purple and needed to go to the hospital and he refused. I told him I was going to get an 02 reader and if his oxygen is too low, he's going. His oxygen was 70. He has never yelled at me ever... but he yelled at me about how he was not going to the hospital, if he goes they're going to kill him. I ended up yelling right back "well you're not staying here to die! So you either get in the f***ing car or I'm calling 911. I'm not going to find your dead body too". I'm driving him to the hospital and he's ranting and raving at me and I'm just sobbing. We're in the ER until midnight because they're going to admit him because he has pneumonia COVID but they don't have a room available, and he's just going on and on about how I've brought him there to die and they're going to kill him. I'm just sobbing, I don't have my anxiety meds and I end up screaming at him in front of the entire ER that he needed to shut up and I brought him there because I cared. Then I sat down and cried until he was put in a room and the hospital sent me home.
It's been 2 weeks since he's been in the hospital. And he's been mean to me every single day. He texts me telling me I need to bring him this or that, that the nurses are mean to him, that the doctor is trying to kill him. I either don't respond or I just text him that I love him. In my state, we can visit those who are in the hospital due to COVID but we have to wear these huge suits. So all day long I get these demanding texts and after work, I go visit him and all through the visits he's so mean. He's mean to me, mean to the nurses. At one point he even said that he only got sick because he was worrying about me and he wouldn't have gotten sick if he hadn't stayed in my house. I just kept my mouth shut every time and when visiting hours are over, usually cry in my car until I can calm down enough to drive home. Mom told me to stop visiting him, that if he can't be nice then don't go. But I told her I would feel so guilty if I didn't visit him and he died. So I have gone every day. I started ignoring his demanding texts so when I show up without whatever he's asking for (usually it's like medication that the nurses already said he couldn't have but he yelled at me to "sneak in" and I told him no), I just shrug and sit down.
In the meantime (yea, you thought this was almost over huh?), my boyfriend's family kept harassing me about packing up our home so my mom told them that if they want something, they need to either grant me some time like a decent person or they can get a lawyer. They got a lawyer. Now, this isn't scary for me because both of my parents are lawyers too so... to me, lawyers are just more reasonable people to talk to but they do have an angle and you have to word everything carefully - idk, something you learn growing up the child of lawyers. Their lawyer is actually really nice. When he first contacted mom (because I won't deal with his family, it just leaves me in panic attacks every time), his impression was I was this evil girlfriend who was keeping a heartbroken family from grieving their son. My mom set him straight real quick. After they talked and mom told him what's been happening, he does this lawyer talk where he can't agree with us that his clients are awful people... but he's agreeing with us. Like phrasing everything like "my clients asks..." or "my client says..." which is lawyer speak for "I don't agree with it but I have to do what my clients want...".
Anyways, mom and the lawyer worked out a deal. The family would give me my urn and my ashes in exchange for his car and family furniture that was given to him several years ago. They came on Saturday to get the stuff... didn't bring me the ashes. After they left (I stayed upstairs. The night before we put the furniture in the garage and my brother watched them retrieve the items from there), the attorney was still there so I went and asked him about the ashes. Even he said he thought they would be bringing them and he doesn't know why they didn't.
That night I rigged up a rope and tested it out until I got dizzy... but I didn't go through with it because it would probably be my brother who would find me once I stop responding to messages. That's not fair, I couldn't let him find me. I left up the rope, it's still there.
Needless to say, my emotional reserves are completely shot. I went to visit my dad today and all he's talking about is how I need to take all his dirty clothes home and wash them and the detergent in the wash room is what he bought and he needs new clothes and... I just snapped. He was in the middle of complaining about laundry detergent and I just got up and walked out. He texted me asking where I was going and I basically told him that I've had it with him complaining and being mean and that he should just be thankful to be alive but evidently he's not and he just wants to continue to complain and I've had it. I ended it with "leave me alone. Until you can act better, just leave me alone" and I turned off my phone.
So here I sit, on the floor of my bathroom, the same spot where my boyfriend died. My emotions are shot. I'm exhausted. I'm tired of trying to hold everything together and obviously I can't. I don't think I should have to. The love of my life is gone, I will never get him back. I can't even have a little bit of his ashes.... and I didn't even want him cremated, I wanted him buried but I'm "just" a girlfriend and had no say. My future is gone. And everyone tells me it gets better with time and I'm doing everything I'm supposed to do but... you know what, I don't want to. I don't want to get better, I don't want to move on, I don't want to continue doing what I'm supposed to do. I want to be done. I want to sleep and never wake up. I want to be with my boyfriend. He was the greatest man in the whole world and was so kind and loving. We were perfect together, I didn't even know two people could meld so perfectly together. I can't do this without him. I don't want to do anything without him. And now I'm resentful, I'm resentful that my dad is being so mean but he gets to be alive but my boyfriend who was sick with the same thing died. It's not fair.
I just want to go put that rope around my neck and join him. I'm done.
The pain of losing someone you love more than anything is terrible, and it sounds like you just need support from those around you right now. Definitely sending love your way and a listening ear.
